


Sensually Silent

by amber_sword_lilies



Category: Final Fantasy, Final Fantasy XV
Genre: AKA In Which Prompto Was The Only One to React Appropriately, Cunnilingus, F/M, Horndog! Ignis, [as usual]
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 03:28:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16611035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amber_sword_lilies/pseuds/amber_sword_lilies
Summary: Reader was always quiet in bed, but it can be a cause for concern or competition from the boys...





	1. Noctis

The bed dipped at your side with a signature slowness. This was no mere flop onto the mattress in pursuit of sleep. He had a plan.

The slightly calloused fingertips that trailed over your lower back were enough confirmation. You pulled your face from the pillow and eyed him, already coy in with a confirmed suspicion. His deep blue eyes lazily took in your form before flicking up to your face. All you had to do was arch an eyebrow. A game smirk played at his lips.

“What?”

“You think you’re so subtle, don’t you?”

“Not really, no,” he shook his head. The hint of smugness on his face was enough for you to return the gesture. “I hope not, anyway. Otherwise you’d say I was spending too much time with Specs.”

You hummed a short note in agreement, cocking your head slightly. “Don’t bring him into the bedroom as well.”

He gaped, a light blush hinting in his cheeks. “I-what?! Gods, no! Not even like that, oh man.”

You raised your eyebrows and smirked at him. He caught on to your amusement and traded his shock for a keen level of spite.

“Don’t make me prove it.”

“I’m not making you do anything. This is on _you,_ ” you said, reaching out to lightly tap his nose. He bristled lightly at the mocking gesture. “ _You_ were the one that brought him up.”

He looked at you with utter disbelief for a moment. You just shrugged and returned to bury your face in the pillow. You’d only just inhaled his scent from the soft linen when the sheets rustled, and lean legs surrounded your own. _Two can play that game._ You angled your hips to rise up and press against him, propping yourself up on your forearms as his lips chased along your shoulder. Sure enough, he was there, hard and pressing gently against your thigh.

At the familiar skim of his hands down your sides, resting for a moment at your hips, you began to spread your legs. He just knew. Somehow, he knew. He’d spent all day teasing you. He’d texted you during half a dozen meetings, even sent you a particularly memorable picture when he managed to get five minutes to himself. Gods knew the debauchery he could achieve in such a short time. Now… he had all night. With you.

What came as a surprise was the stilling of your hips. He held you there and brought his legs up to kneel over you. Then he pulled you around. Tired, and a little shocked by his persuasive handlings, you were turned onto your back.

He leant over you, subtly toned and pale in the soft light that poured in through the open window. Insomnia truly never slept. A bright moon and city lights washed his skin with quicksilver. Making short work of your underwear, you were quickly stripped and left cold, only to be warmed by the hard press of his flesh again.

To be honest, you were a little dumbstruck. He’d never faced you before. Mutual awkwardness, despite all your intimacies, had proven to be a buzzkill twice. That had been enough to cement your preference for intimate positions that didn’t necessarily require eye contact.

That didn’t stop you becoming lost in the deep, oceanic blues he watched you with. Eager from hours of distant teasing, your legs wrapped around his waist and pulled him closer. His soft lips parted at the contact. Still conscious of himself, he ducked down to suck gentle bruises onto your neck. He loved you marked.

In one swift movement, he seated himself inside your slick, desperate core. The knot he’d spent all day tying was already fraying in your gut, desperate to come undone. His breaths came in huffs and pants, bordering on muted whines.

It was when he pulled away that a soft frown gathered his brows. Your arms were draped over your face, and you hid the parted lips of pleasure behind them.

“Hey…” he breathed, gently prying your arms away. You locked on his eyes, more out of curiosity than anything else. “I wanna see you.”

You could feel yourself shrinking, pulling in on yourself in a vain attempt to hide. The dark mess of his hair swayed. You found yourself copying him, shaking your head at your own unnecessary discomfort.

“After all this, I’m still just-,” the frustration made words catch in your throat until you released one with grit and finality. “Shy.”

You turned your head away from him, only to feel his hand take yours. He pulled it to his chest. The steady thrum of his heartbeat shook through your palm. “Look at me. Please.”

You clenched your teeth and did as told. Your gaze stuck to his throat until he whispered your name. The moment your eyes locked with his again, you drowned in the deep, velveteen blue. What shook you from the calm waters there, was his quickening pulse in your hand. Your mouth fell open at the racing of it.

“I’m shy too,” he admitted.

The airy rasp of his whisper was enough to melt you. Your hand left his chest and came to cup his cheek. He leant into it, picking up the languid rolls of his hips again. He watched, completely entranced, as your face contorted in pleasure, but always returned to look at him, _into_ him. It drew soft groans from his chest that only echoed alone for a moment. You followed, mewling his name softly as he took you.

His hips gave up their slow, calculated tides in favour and harder presses, desperate to bury himself in you. You had the pleasure of watching dark lashes flutter shut to conceal the deep blue of his eyes, watching his lips swell from his own biting and fall open to quiver. Each and every blatant display of need and satisfaction, pair with the insistent thrust of his hips, was enough to tie the knot until it finally snapped.

Your nails dug into his back as you shook around him, crying out for your king. He came with a curse, burying himself deep to fill you. 


	2. Prompto

His charms were as undeniable as he was sweet. The constant buzzing energy that surrounded him, his flitting movements, busy hands, constant fidgeting… It all should’ve been a warning. Prompto Argentum was insatiable and entirely committed to the cause when it came to the intimacy he shared with you.

His lips were hot and open on your throat, frantic hands fumbling with your belt. He ground against your thigh with a needy whine, already painfully hard. Matching his eagerness, you wriggled from your pants and then underwear, stripping your own shirt away to meet him, skin on skin. He was always so warm. Lean, hard flesh that gave the softest touches.

Blue eyes widened at the skin bared for him, darting between his favourite points. Soft fingertips lingered at your hips. His touch ghosted upwards, making your writhe and giggle at his teases. A crooked grin spread on his face, making freckles cheeks ball and flush. He let out a telling laugh before tickling you in earnest. You crumpled under every targeted attack, contorting until you were lying on your front in a weak attempt to escape him.

Breathless and grinning, you felt his hands squeeze your waist and lift you up. He was quick to push his pants down enough to free his cock. You took a glance over your shoulder and there he was. Comic charm in the bright colours of the pale shock of his hair, cosmic blue eyes and rosy cheeks. Passing your gaze over his toned torso, flexing gently as he fisted his cock. That was another matter entirely. Thick and beautifully pink, it was already leaking precum onto the sheets.

“Somebody’s keen,” you laughed. His eyes snapped from your ass and locked on yours.

“Yeah? You should see the view from where I’m at,” he shook his head, passing his gaze over your back. By the time he focused on the part he craved most, he was biting his lip and letting out a soft groan. You blushed and hid your face in the pillows.

You found yourself mimicking his gesture, trapping your bottom lip between your teeth when the head of his cock rubbed against your thighs, gliding over the soft skin as he played around your pussy.

He slipped between your lips, rutting against your clit with the gentle, needy push of his hips. A whine tumbled from his mouth, coursing through your skin as much as his hands ferried tingles over your back. Prompto was nothing short of musical in the bedroom, a factor you relied upon to hide your own silence. He was so carried away, floating on ecstatic pleasure, that he would fill the void your muted tendencies left. He never minded; he could always see you reacting, the twists your body took when he touched you just so.

Your train of though derailed with astonishing speed when the head of his cock teased your entrance, slick and hot from the mutual juices and desire. He pushed in with a slow press of his hips, blunt fingertips digging into the flesh of your hips. He bottomed out, stretching you around his girth, and pressed his forehead between your shoulder blades. The ragged moan he let out was enough to make you bite the pillow. He was thick enough to begin with, but from this angle? Heavenly.

He pressed against your every limit, dragging open lips over your back as whines and grunts left him freely. A restless hand reached around to play with your clit; an act that made you clench your jaw and bury into the pillows even more.

The combination was dizzying. His frantic fingertips shifted as freely as silk, applying just the right pressure and in the perfect circles. Your head was shaking, desperate to deny yourself the cries of his name that were desperate to be released. Holding them in only accelerated your pleasure. He rocked into you with fervour, stretching and leaving you excruciatingly empty with every push and pull.

Your head was swimming, lost on the ecstasy as you gripped the sheets. Your hips angled to take him deeper, jaw clenched to maintain your silence. You could feel everything slipping away, the swirling colours in your gut threatening to explode and turn everything white, when he stopped.

Grimacing against the pillows, you mentally cursed him. Frustration welled and need pulled your hips to move against him. He squeezed your waist and pressed a shaking kiss to your shoulder.

“Is-is this okay? Do you like this?”

Your mouth dropped open. Fighting every plea that clawed to escape your throat, you managed a nod. He muttered an affirmation and took up his rhythm again.

After a few half-hearted thrusts, he stopped again. You were precariously close to whining for him to keep going.

“Are you sure?” he asked. Unease was wreaking havoc with his already sweet voice. You wanted to melt right there underneath him. His hands shook, suddenly conscious of the grip he’d kept on you and immediately releasing you. “It’s-I don’t really know.”

The admission was so raw, so honest and vulnerable, it made you frown gently into the pillow. You bit the proverbial bullet and turned to look at him over your shoulder.

“Of course I am, I just- I don’t want to be too loud,” you confessed, avoiding his eyes at all costs.

After a silent minute crawled by, you looked at him more out of fear than courage. His pale brows pinched together in a soft frown. He shook whatever distraction clouded him from his head and stammered through a response.

“You-you really don’t have to worry about that, you know. I won’t mind. I _don’t_ mind. I wanna make sure this is good for you too.”

Touched by his sweetness, and still working yourself gently on his cock, you whined quietly when his eyes fluttered shut at the sensation. The broken moan that left him with his regained rhythm were enough to coax a needy whisper of his name.

The pair of you continued, driving each other to the oblivion where every colour burst and made the world blinding for an instant. It was the moment you craved, and he chased. He worked against you in a fever, desperate for the sweet, stinging instant. Every withdrawal dragged at your inner walls before he could stretch you again, hand working in a frenzy against your clit until you tensed under him, bucking against his touches.

_“P-Prompto!”_


	3. Ignis

It was nothing exceptional for him to be frisky in the mornings. For someone so refined, his sex drive had come as a surprise during the early stages of your relationship. He took breakfast half-hard. More often than not, he was walking out the door with a head swimming in debauchery.

The rarity came when he had the time to do something about it. You’d woken up before your alarm, and propped yourself up, only to see him sitting against the headboard, a mug of coffee steaming in his hand as the rain poured outside. Drop peppered your window as he watched them fall. You took his hand, intertwined your fingers and gently stroked his thumb. He returned the favour.

“Good morning,” he mused, taking a sip. After a deep sigh, he turned to look at you. “You look ravishing, as ever.”

“ _Ravished,_ maybe.”

He ran the back of his finger over your cheek as the hint of a devious smirk played on his lips. He tried to hide it behind his mug. You shook your head and rolled onto your side, propped up to watch him. Hair mussed and wispy and lips swollen from all the biting he gave them in sleep, he was divine. All smooth skin and subtle, neutral tones… except for those eyes. Soft and cool, they were the green of spring grass, aloe and a warm sea. Jewels on cream silk. Ignis Scientia was a luxury, make no mistake.

But he was also a man with a plan.

He pulled your hand to his face, nuzzling against your knuckles before gracing your skin with an elegant kiss. His lips were soft and heated by his morning beverage. Green eyes held yours through sheer magnetism, gently blinking, lashes free to catch with his air in the absence of his glasses.

It was only when he let your joined hands rest in his lap that you noticed the familiar bulge under the sheets. He only had to cock his eyebrow playfully.

Laughing incredulously at your luck, you were straddling his lap within the minute. Fine, gloveless fingertips graced your skin with teasing expertise, drawing intricate patterns on every inch that was still bare from last night. Languid kisses were shared. Your tongue played smoothly between his lips, tasting the bitterness of his coffee, and the faint memory of your own sex.

You reached down to trace your fingertips against his hardening cock, the head already glistening with precum. The few gentle strokes you gave him were enough for his lips to part, before pulling into a coy smile. You positioned him at your entrance, teasing him between your folds, coating him until he was slick.

A more insistent push of his hands on your hips reminded you just who you were toying with. Whilst you’d certainly earned this, taking it for granted would be bad form. The kiss given was tender, but the gentle bite to your bottom lip was his warning. You kissed him back, before sinking down onto his length. The elegant glide and drag of it against your inner walls made them flutter.

You fought the hitch in your breath, biting at your bottom lip to stifle what could’ve been a moan. _It’d be too lewd; this is Ignis! The most sophisticated man this side of-_

“ _Ahh!_ ”

His hands were on your hips, commanding your every move with firm pushes and pulls. A particularly deep grind had forced the sound from you. Your hands planted against the headboard, nails digging in as he pushed deep, deeper and oh so slow. His pace was excruciatingly teasing, and he knew it _worked._

His lean body was pressed under you, pelvis rubbing deliciously at your clit with every rock of your hips on his. Another moan threatened to escape your mouth. You busied yourself with his neck, sucking and biting the tender flesh under a sandy five o’clock shadow.

His hips gave another unexpected thrust, dizzying you enough to coax a whine from your throat. You immediately silenced the next under his persistent ministrations. He put his lips to your ear and whispered sinfully.

“No need to be shy, darling.”

The velvet of his tone was enough to make you quake in his lap. He never let you break pace. A slender hand wound into your hair, grasping the back of your neck to gently pull you from his throat. His eyebrow quirked when you bit back a moan. He wore an uninhibited, devilish smirk as his other hand slipped down and began to expertly tease your clit. As you clenched around him, he hissed a satisfied breath and continued his ministrations.

Pale lips dragged up your throat, before nipping gently along tender, hypersensitive flesh. His mouth brushed against your earlobe, just as he hit that sweet spot that made you hold your breath.

“Don’t deny me,” he whispered between pants, tilting your head back for better access to your neck. “Sing for me, dearest.”

Trapped between a commanding hand, a sinful fingertip and the smooth grind of his hips against yours, you found yourself craving an entirely different escape. Reality was slipping away. The rain lashing against the window faded to white noise as the room turned into nothing but Ignis.

Neither of you recognised the smooth, melodic moan that floated into the room. His eyes widened slightly, filling with the steady admiration of lust. A second note played from your throat and it was enough to coax a soft groan from him as his hips stuttered.

He matched you for the symphony, spurred on by the free sounds that left the sweetest mouth he’d ever known. Your arms slipped around his neck, fingers running through the softness of his hair. He took hold of your hips and jutted upwards. The more you tightened, the more persuasive his thrusts became until you were falling apart in his lap with a broken keen of his name, held steady by bare hands as he spilled inside you.


	4. Gladiolus

You landed on the bed with the same soft thud as always. The dipping of the mattress and a rustle of the sheets confirmed his presence. You opened your eyes and there he was, leaning over you with a fun hunger in that wolfish grin of his. He wore that smile to kiss you. Every lingering press of your lips to his earned a deep hum; each stroke of the tongue, a more insistent delve from his own.

Propped up on his forearm, his free hand slipped against your stomach, travelling under your shirt, brushing flames into your skin as it travelled upwards to paw at your breasts. He leant up to pull the fabric from you, and you obliged. Almost immediately, his grinning mouth was on yours again and the warmth of his bare chest pressed against you.

He easily covered you, keeping you right where he wanted you. Your fingertips ghosted over his arms, travelling up the pillars of this temple; the sanctuary he gave you. It was a sacral place of pleasures and sweeter sin. With Gladiolus Amicitia you got what you wanted, what you needed, and more.

Hot lips gave one last, lingering goodbye to your mouth before trailing along your jaw. The gentle threat of his teeth on your neck gave way to a laving tongue and working lips. Your hands were in his hair, carding through the soft, thick locks. He smiled against your clavicle when you arched beneath him, desperate for more. More touches; more heat; more _him._

The drag of calloused fingertips up your sides, barely touching you, made you writhe. His deep chuckle was as dark and soft as thunderclouds.

“ _Gladio_ …” you whispered.

You were about to launch further protest when he took a mouthful of your breast, kneading the flesh between plump lips and a keen tongue. He inched closer to your nipple. When he finally sucked the pebbled flesh into his mouth, it was with the most debauched sound he could create.

Already biting your lip, you weren’t sure how much longer you could wait, how much more of this you could take. You squeezed his hips with your knees, giving him the gentle prompt.

He kept on his course, trailing kisses over bare and burning skin, humming a soft tune as he did so. The vibrations of his voice only stirred the coals under your skin, setting the fire all over again. In his shadow, you burned brighter as an offering aflame.

As his worships slipped lower, his hands bunched your underwear at your hips. He sat up back on his heels, fixing you with a soft grin, while he gathered your legs together and against his shoulder. You lifted your hips obediently, allowing him to slip the fabric along your legs. He still had you pinned with a fond, but hungry, gaze.

“You ready, babygirl?”

He gave one quick peck to your calf before setting your legs back onto the bed. His kisses and hands warmed your hips, but it was no match for the pooling heat between them. Your back arched lightly as his lips dragged over the soft skin and trailed between your thighs. He wasn’t always such a tease. The drifting of his lips up your thighs was enough to make your breath hitch, and a sigh catch in your throat.

Settled between your legs, he kept up his games. Kisses were pressed everywhere but the place you wanted, _needed,_ them most. Your hips rolled forwards, desperate to catch him. His arms were wound around your thighs, keeping you fixed in place as he teased, nipping and sucking on the soft, sensitive flesh he craved.

The hitch in your breath was the last persuasion he needed.

There was something about his mouth. He kept his lips working, tongue delving into your folds. His moans made you tremble. That tongue never stopped, trailing up and down and around, dipping into you to savour the taste. Within his first few strokes, he’d made a blush form on your cheeks. After a dozen more repetitions he surrounded your clit with a soaking mouth and sucked that sensitive bundle of nerves between plump lips.

Your hand immediately slapped over your mouth to stifle a moan. The coolness of the air above you became painfully obvious. It was empty, clear and quiet. The soft sounds of his groans and busy mouth, made lewd and wet by your juices, were so lone in their nature, they seemed all the more sinful as they floated on the silence.

But he was right there, solely devoted to bringing you as much pleasure as he could. Every achingly slow lick and swirl of his tongue made you twitch under his touch. You bit your wrists to stay quiet.

He reached up, palms coursing over your curves, to take your hands from your face. Your fingers were intertwined with his as he continued his ministrations. Head swimming between bouts of pleasure, shame, and anxiousness you propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him.

He was a sight to behold, rutting against the bed, hair mussed and brows knitting softly in pleasure. Each languid move of his tongue was followed by his jaw, the stubble scratching your skin.  His tanned cheeks bloomed with faint roses.

When he squeezed your fingers between his own and parted his thick, dark eyelashes, the honeyed gaze almost drove you over the edge. He watched you with smouldering, molten eyes, with lust and adoration, as he suckled on your clit again.

You nearly whined when he took his mouth away, mumbling against you in the stormy timbre you knew so well.

“I wanna hear you.”

Your head fell back at his craving plea. He latched back on with purpose. It was only when he grumbled low and deep, sending vibrations through your core, that your final shred of control burned into ash. You were grinding against him with a quiet moan and a helpless, sweet cry of his name.


End file.
